


Peach Blossoms

by psychomachia



Category: Liáo zhāi zhì yì | Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio - Pú Sōnglíng
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-13 19:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/140981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychomachia/pseuds/psychomachia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, it's better not to give your heart to someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peach Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowynight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowynight/gifts).



There was once a Governor in Shaanxi, who lived an exceedingly corrupt and decadent life. It was known that his judgments were harsh and unfair, that he took bribes and demanded money from those he deemed his enemies, and that the virtuous and upright often fell prey to his materialistic schemes.

It was also known that though he consorted with women, his real passion lay with beautiful young men. He was constantly on the search for his next obsession and many mothers feared for their sons catching his eye.

One day, the Governor was invited to a banquet held by a censor named Wang. He knew the man to be an ordinary one, possessing neither any vices with which to blackmail him nor of any extraordinary virtues that would be problematic for his schemes. Indeed, it was a dull night and he saw very little to amuse him.

Then Wang led out a beautiful youth to perform the “Devil’s Dance” and the Governor was instantly smitten. The boy’s limpid eyes, his skin like moonlight, and his silken hair, that shone like fine ink on parchment. For the rest of the evening, he could scarcely be parted from him. So enamored with the youth was the Governor that he could not even remember when the banquet ended. All he knew was that he had to have the boy, and after some careful negotiating, he did.

“What is your name?” asked the Governor and the boy laughed.

“Whatever you would like it to be, my lord,” he said, and tilted his head, smiling sweetly.

“What is your name?” he asked again, as he led him to the bedchamber, dismissing all in his wake.

But the boy refused to tell him his name, so the Governor had to be content with whispering honeyed words into the boy’s ear as they lay together. Truly, the boy was marvelous, knowing the Governor’s body inside and out, bringing to heights of pleasure he had never known with any concubine.

That night, the Governor had a curious dream.

He was walking down a hallway entirely made of jade. There were hollow openings, through which he could see golden light shining out. As he went to peer in one, he caught a glimpse of a beautiful youth dressed in a golden robe holding a lotus. To his dismay, the opening closed quickly and nothing but a smooth wall remained. This went on for some time as he walked, each opening closing before he could see more than a flash of beauty.

Some time later, he came to the end of a hallway with one final window. As he peered into it, he saw his lover engaged in lovemaking with another man, a handsome stranger whose hands made the boy moan and arch. He instantly felt jealousy, a murderous feeling that coursed through his veins, leaving him breathless with rage for an instant. Then he shouted at the couple, who stopped at once. The boy murmured something into the stranger’s ear, and the man touched his face with a slender hand, before rising to his feet.

He then melted away, like a dream upon waking, and his lover was left there, straightening his robe. He approached the opening and peered through, still smiling and tilting his head like earlier that evening.

“Why would you betray me?” demanded the Governor. “Why would you sleep with another when I have already claimed you?”

“Why would you sleep with others when you have me?” asked the boy. “If I am to give myself to someone, it should be someone who does not bestow his affections too freely upon any pretty object he encounters, but saves it for someone truly worthy.”

At this rebuke, the Governor felt abased, but soon regained his composure. “Then what must I do to earn your favors?” he asked. “Would you like me to devote myself to you and you alone? I would do so if you would give yourself over to me.”

The boy laughed. “I know that you will promise to love me alone. But I require a surety of this pledge, a token of your fidelity.”

“What would you have? A ring?”

“I would have your heart.” The boy grew grave and the light from behind him grew darker. No longer golden, it was reddish, like that of an autumn sunset

“But you possess that already.”

“I would have your actual heart.” And with that, the boy reached forward and sunk his hand deep into the Governor’s chest. He felt an excruciating pain throughout, and as the boy retracted his hand, he saw his beating heart clutched into the boy’s slender fingers.

The boy proceeded to drop the heart into a shallow golden bowl resting on the floor. “Now we can begin,” said his lover and he traced one bloody hand alongside the Governor’s face.

The light went out entirely in the corridor, plunging them into darkness.

Upon waking, the Governor told his lover of the dream. The boy smiled, then sang:

            _It’s easy to get a precious treasure_  
            _but hard to find a man with a heart._  


His lover then leaned over, silky hair, long and smooth, brushing against the Governor’s forehead. “I would have you and no other,” he murmured.

From that day forward, he had eyes only for the boy, who in turn, devoted himself to occupying all of his time. The Governor quite forgot about any of his demands for payment, and those whom he had pressured felt the relief as his attentions were turned elsewhere.

It was rumored that he was possessed by something as weeks went by and he showed no signs of leaving his bed. He gave the boy gifts, robes of fine silk, shimmering golden jewelry, and all manner of trinkets. Whatever his lover wanted, it seemed the Governor would grant him it. Banquets were held in his honor and every time, he would be paraded on the Governor’s arm, smiling and whispering closely into the man’s ear, who hung on every word.

There was no man happier than the Governor, who felt he had obtained the greatest treasure in the world. If he felt weak or more tired than he usually was, he believed it due to the energy he constantly exerted in making love.

Three months later, he dreamed again.

The Governor was standing in a garden, surrounded by peach trees. Around him, blossoms fluttered to the ground. A gentle wind blew through the trees, scattering more flowers to the wind so that his eyes saw nothing but a delicate rosy hue.

From somewhere in the distance, a sweet voice sang:

            _Spring is a deep courtyard of many locked doors._  
 _Petals falling in falling rain make the night seem forever._  
 _Regret comes to me in dream. There is no escape._  


“But surely,” the Governor answered, for he recognized the voice of his lover, “there is no reason to be sad. We are happier than this.”

“Perhaps,” the voice called back. “But I feel as if you are still holding back from me. I fear that something else holds your attention, and keeps my pillow cold.”

“Never,” he swore. “I would give you everything I possess.”

“I will hold you to that promise,” his lover swore. “I would have you love nothing but me.”

As the Governor watched, the flowers disappeared and left in their place were peaches, hanging ripe and plump from the trees. He picked the nearest one from a low hanging branch, and bit into it. But much to his dismay, the peach contained no sweet nectar or juice, but a bitter bile. He spat it out and looked down at the peach. It was black inside, with coarse red hairs growing throughout.

The boy began singing again, and though the melody was the same, the words had changed:

            _By mistake I entered the human realm;_  
            _now halfway through;_  
            _silver toad nibbles at me,_  
            _Tooth mark still blue;_  
            _this skin-bag is full of air,_  
            _easily blown off in the breeze._  


As the final word was said, the gentle wind became a strong gale that shook him to the marrow. It seemed to fill his ears, echoing through his head until he could hear nothing but a howling that made him clasp his hands to his ears. The Governor felt as if his head would explode from the pain the howling caused and he was relieved when darkness came.

When the Governor awoke, he placed his hands to his ears, and came away with blood. Immediately summoning a doctor, he submitted himself for examination. The doctor could find nothing wrong, but prescribed herbs to be poured into his ear. There seemed nothing wrong with his hearing.

And yet – music held no more appeal for him from that day forward. He could not hear the plucking of a sweet string without a twinge in his ear. A lovely voice would cause him to flee, terrified that it would soon turn to that terrible wind.

Surprisingly, only his lover’s voice caused him no pain. The boy was a balm in those times to him, and he felt he would die if he would ever leave his side.

“Swear to me,” he said one night as they lay together. “Swear to me that you will never leave my side.”

“I swear,” said the boy. “I swear that I shall be with you until the end.”

And if he had been devoted to the boy before, he was almost one with him now. There was nowhere the Governor went that his lover did not go. He lived only for the boy, and servants whispered that should the boy request the Governor to take his own life, the Governor would do so in order to please his beautiful companion.

But the days passed without incident and it seemed that it would continue this way for quite some time.

The third dream came two months later.

He dreamt that as he was making love to the beautiful boy, he became aware of a curious lightness in his body and a weakness to his limbs. He fell upon him, and as he did so, his ear came to rest upon his lover’s chest. There was no beating inside and so he asked, “What did you do with your heart?”

“Yours is quite enough for me,” said his lover and gestured over to a low-set table against the wall. Upon it was a heart, beating steadily in the shallow golden bowl. As he watched it, it began to blacken and grow smaller, before crumbling entirely into ashes.

“But it seems that it was not enough for you,” added the boy. “Nor anything else you possess.” The boy slid out gracefully from underneath him and padded over to the table, stirring the ashes with one long, delicate finger.

Suddenly, he felt pain stretching throughout his body. Nothing seemed to be free from the agony that burned through his limbs. There was a moment where his entire body seemed to be on fire, as if he had stepped into an oven. Then the pain stopped.

Looking down at his body, he saw it to be smooth and unmarked. But as he watched, his member fell to the ground, detached from his body. It lay like a fish, flopping about on the ground, before it stopped moving. Desperately, he tried to pick it up and reattach it to his body, but it slipped out of his grass, turning into a small green snake that slithered through a crack in the wall.

“In the end, you will lose everything,” the boy said quietly. “It is only fitting that you be left with nothing.” He threw the bowl in the air and the resulting cloud of ashes hid him from view. When the ash cleared, the boy was gone.

The Governor awoke terrified and gazed down at his member. It was still there, though it hung limp as a worm or eel. His lover still slept, and he quickly woke him to remedy this condition. But though the boy applied his utmost skill, it would not rise.

“No matter,” said the boy. “I am sure your dream has caused this.” The Governor could scarcely believe that this beautiful, gentle creature was the same as the cold one of his dreams. It was a nightmare, surely, and he lay down again beside his lover. The rest of the night passed without dreams.

But the next day, as he checked it again, it was worse. Not only did it remain soft, but it seemed smaller, as if it had retreated like a losing army after a battle. And so the next day, little by little, it seemed to vanish further into his body. He called doctors to help, but some insisted nothing was wrong, while others prescribed useless remedies that did nothing to stop the shrinking.

His lover remained unfazed throughout it all. “We need not fear,” the boy said. “I am sure that whatever problems you may have, they will cease to trouble you soon enough.” And true, due to his lover’s skillful mouth and hands, the Governor was still able to obtain pleasure, albeit not of the rapturous kind he had experienced only months before.

After several days, he saw it stop and though it appeared he would never be the man he once was, he still remained one. His potency, however, was still affected and the tower would never again rise.

A month later, the boy came to him and said that he would be leaving for a day. “I must visit a dear friend,” he said. “I shall see you soon enough.” The Governor was loath to let him leave, but the boy smiled so charmingly that he had no choice.

His bed felt cold and empty as he went to lay alone in it. For the first time, he noticed a lack of emotion. There was nothing else in his life that pleased him like his lover, and he fell asleep quickly, seeking to escape the emptiness that surrounded him.

That night, the Governor had his fourth dream.

He was standing in front of a frozen lake. Snow fell so fast that it muffled all sound, and it seemed to him that he could hear nothing, not even a bird. To his dismay, his dwelling was nowhere in sight, but a forest filled with dark green trees, so thick and closely set that they seemed more a wall, block. It surrounded him completely, blocking any sight but what was immediately before him. He seemed alone, and he called for his servants. No one answered.

Then there was a sudden rush of snow before him, temporarily blinding him, and when he looked once more, there were two figures standing in front of him in the middle of the lake. One was his lover, and he called out to the boy, who did not raise his head. The other was the stranger from the dream of the jade hallway, who was clasping the boy’s hands and whispering low into his ear.

Angered at such impudent liberties taken with his lover, the Governor rushed forward, striding forward on the ice, heedless of the creaking below him. The boy raised his head, and for one moment, it looked as if his ears grew pointed and upright. The Governor blinked his eyes and the ears returned to normal and the boy put his head back down.

He approached the couple, treading more cautiously now as he noticed the slipperiness of the icy surface below him. They made no movement towards him, and indeed, they seemed to only see each other.

“Who are you?” he demanded, but the couple paid him no heed. Infuriated, he reached out to rip the man’s arm away from his lover, but his hand slid through, as if he was grasping mist. The stranger looked at him now, and his eyes were like coals, burning infernally through the Governor. At once, he felt as if the man could read him to the depths of his spirit, as if Yama himself was present to judge him.

Now, he recognized that he was dealing with no ordinary human, but a spirit, as the man’s face rippled and momentarily changed into one that he recognized. For a moment, he was staring into the face of a former censor he had demanded payment of a thousand taels from months ago. The man had attempted to avoid it by claiming he was no longer that man, but another. At the time, the Governor thought it to be some sort of trick, but now staring at the face, which shifted back to the stranger’s, he was afraid. Quickly, though, he hardened his heart and demanded again.

“Who are you?”

The two still said nothing to him. This time, it seemed he would not part them and they embraced even more fervently. It seemed they mocked him, and the Governor’s anger grew until it seemed its fire began to melt the ice beneath him. The creaking grew louder beneath his feet, but all he heard was the two of them, exchanging fervent intimacies that left him out in the cold.

 “I told you to have no regrets about our time together,” said the stranger, brushing his hand through the boy’s hair. “I have never had any.”

“And I told you that we could never be together,” the boy whispered back. “You must move on once I have fulfilled what I promised you. My cousin—”

“I cannot change what is in my heart and she knows what lies in your own. Both our hearts are large enough that you can dwell within them as well.” The stranger clutched the boy tighter as he began to weep, tears freezing in the chill.

“I will only bring you suffering and death, as I did before.”

“You brought me death when I was a human. Now that I have returned from the underworld, I have changed. I know enough to know that those who make an affinity in life will keep this through all cycles of death and rebirth. I will not separate from you now or ever.”

At that, the boy gave one long shuddering sigh and was still. The Governor felt cold seeping into his bones. His tongue seemed frozen in his mouth. He heard a cracking, but it came not from the ice below him, but from somewhere deep inside, as if something very precious and fragile had shattered in him.

            _Their tender feelings are like soft water,_  
 _but the reunion is as short as a dream._  
 _Unbearable to go back across this bridge built by magpies._  
 _If love lasts long between a couple_  
 _they don’t need to be together morning and night._  


The boy’s voice, when it came was so quiet, it seemed such a whisper would be lost in the snow, but instead, the words echoed throughout as if it was said in the most intimate of chambers.

The stranger smiled, finally looking up at the Governor. “It is time now. We will need to take our leave.” The boy looked over at him, and in his eyes, the Governor saw something strange for the first time, an uncanny wisdom that made him seem more like an Immortal than a beautiful youth. His mind cleared for the first time since he met the youth, and the Governor realized numbly just what he had embraced.

With a whirl of snow, both men were gone.

At once, the ice cracked beneath him, and he fell into the dark water, which swallowed him whole.

The next morning, servants came to check on the Governor, who had not risen from his bed for his appointed meetings. They found him, cold and stiff on his bed. As they tried to blow life back through his lips, a fountain of icy water shot through his mouth for several minutes, staining the bedclothes and leaving a chill in the room that strangely persisted well into the next day.

The boy returned only to see the Governor’s body and then left again quickly, saying nothing to anyone there. It was soon discovered that all the golden trinkets and wealth the Governor had bestowed upon him had vanished as well. It was said that the boy did not return for any of the death rites and was last seen to in a magnificent house in the countryside east of Tiaoxi, going by the name of Huang.

**Author's Note:**

> The following poems were used in order:
> 
> Yu Xuanyi, “Sent to a Neighboring Woman.” Trans. Tony Barnstone, Chinese Erotic Poems.  
> Zhu Shushen. “To the Tune of ‘Washing Creek Sands’.” Ibid.  
> Lizi. “To the Tune of ‘Washing Creek Sands’.” Trans. Xiaofei Tian, “Muffled Dialect Spoken by Green Fruit.”  
> Qin Guan, “To the Tune of ‘Magpie Bridge Immortal’.” Barnstone.
> 
> I also used the John Minford translation of Pu Songling’s “Strange Tales”, which seems to have a nice balance between poetic and literal phrasing.
> 
> A longer author’s note will follow in my LJ, when the author reveal has gone up and I have collected my thoughts a bit more about the writing process. Suffice it to say, I enjoyed rereading these tales and writing a little variation on “Cut-Sleeve,” in which things are tweaked slightly between our couple Huang and He Shican towards the end. I’m a sucker for a happy ending – though perhaps the Governor wouldn’t see it that way.


End file.
